


Better in Our Resolve

by inksheddings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Family Feels, Gen, New Year's Eve, No Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 18:43:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9136786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inksheddings/pseuds/inksheddings
Summary: "Well, if anything should be our family motto," Sam chimed in.Beer, bad jokes, and bullets. Mary's first New Year's Eve at the bunker is as unexpected as anything and everything in her life after death.





	

**Author's Note:**

> It's been years since I've written Supernatural fic, so I have concerns. Heh. But I love Mary Winchester and had to give this a go. 
> 
> Happy New Year, everyone. And may we all live the Winchester Family Motto.

“I wish we had fireworks,” Mary said, looking up at the cloud-filled sky. “Might’ve broken up some of the gloom up there.”

They were sitting outside the bunker, bundled up in their warmest but still drinking cold beer. They didn’t need a cooler to keep it icy, thanks to the below freezing temperature. They’d dragged out chairs and blankets and had the Impala's radio turned up loud enough that they could hear it, but not so loud they couldn’t indulge in idle conversation.

“That is not something I am capable of providing, I’m afraid,” Castiel replied, and Dean wasn’t having it with the regret he could hear in his friend’s voice.

“We don’t need fireworks,” Dean insisted, putting his beer down on the ground and pulling the blanket around Castiel’s shoulders a bit tighter. Castiel had insisted he didn’t need it to keep warm but, to Mary's amusement, Dean had countered that looking at him covered only by his stupidly inappropriate-for-the-season coat was making the rest of them feel even colder by proxy, so Castiel was dealing with the blanket whether he wanted to or not. “We’ve got beer, we’ve got music, we’ve got each other.”

Sam raised one ridiculous eyebrow but Mary and Castiel also stared at Dean in bewilderment.

Dean rolled his eyes, “Yes, chick flick moment, I know. It’s New Year’s Eve, so sue me or give me another beer.”

“Shouldn’t you finish this one first?” Sam asked, picking up the beer Dean had left on the ground before messing with Castiel’s blanket. 

“I’m a talented man, Sammy," Dean said, smirking ridiculously. "I think I can handle--"

“I’m not sure I want to hear about what you can _handle,_ ” Mary interrupted. She tried to make her face the very picture of displeasure, but she couldn't help but allow that hint of amusement to color her words. 

“Would you like a cup, Dean, so you can pour both of your bottles--"

Dean laughed at Castiel's earnestness. "Nah, I'm good." Dean took his bottle from Sam and his whole body seemed to shiver and then relax as he drank it down until it was empty. "Real good," he reiterated as he grabbed a new bottle and twisted it open. 

Mary looked at her watch and then back up to the night sky. Seven more minutes would bring them to a new year. She couldn't help but think about all the years she'd missed, about John, about her baby boys -- she missed them most of all. But here they were, safe (relatively) and grown and more concerned with her welfare than their own. It was all backward, but it was what they had. 

"Still wish we had fireworks," she said, leaning back in her chair and trying hard to make out at least one star among the thick clouds. 

"I know a joke," Castiel offered.

"What, about fireworks?" Sam asked.

"No, not specifically about fireworks, but about New Year's." 

Before Sam could ask, Castiel looked chagrined but admitted, "While I may not trust the internet, it has its uses."

"Well, let's hear it," Mary encouraged, tipping her bottle towards him. 

"Oh, this should be good," Dean muttered, sitting down next to Mary. She refrained from smacking him for rudeness since while she hadn't known Castiel all that long, she'd figured out pretty quickly that even after years with her sons he still had a hard time with human subtleties like humor. She hated to admit it, but it made her feel better that for all her own confusion and difficulties adjusting, she was still able to tell a damn good joke without looking one up on the internet.

Castiel cleared his throat and looked almost shyly from one Winchester to the next. "What do you tell someone you didn't see on New Year's Eve?"

Mary, Sam, and Dean waited expectantly but Castiel tightened his mouth with obvious frustration before saying, "I believe at this point one of you--"

"Oh, for crying out loud," Dean muttered, and this time Mary did elbow him but good. "Fine, Cas, what do you tell someone you didn't see on New Year's Eve?" Dean relented, rubbing his side where Mary's elbow had connected as Sam snickered.

"I haven't seen you for a year."

Mere seconds passed but they seemed to stretch on and on. 

"And the silence is deafening," Sam said, but not unkindly, and he tapped his bottle against Castiel's own barely touched beer. 

"Was my timing for the punch line not correct?" Castiel asked.

"Just drink your beer," Dean advised.

A few more minutes passed peacefully, and Mary sang quietly along with the radio, "Dreamboat Annie" pulling her slightly out of time. To Dean's utter horror, Mary had found herself enjoying quite a bit of current music. _("But, Ariana Grande, Mom? Just twist the knife, already!")_ Tonight, however, she was glad for the "oldies" station Dean had insisted on. She wondered if she'd ever settle on whether such unexpected reminders of her particular situation -- old songs that still felt new, TV shows long canceled that she could only find on Castiel's feared internet, clothing styles that were making a "comeback" -- were more comfort or discomfort. She never knew until it hit her at each individual moment.

"Less than a minute 'til we can start the countdown," Sam said, interrupting her train of thought. 

Dean made sure everyone had a fresh beer, whether they'd finished their previous bottle or not, and they all stood and stared up at the starless sky.

"I'd like to try another joke," Castiel said, and even Mary cringed slightly, but no one had the heart to actually dissuade him.

"Only it's not so much a joke as a...resolution, perhaps. I don't really know if it's funny," Castiel admitted.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure it won't be--fuck! _Ow!_ " This time it was Sam who'd smacked the back of Dean's head.

Castiel looked at Mary's sons fondly. While she felt no motherly concern for this angel who still shocked her with his capacity for violence and yet soothed her with his obvious love for her boys, she couldn't help but nod encouragingly at him as the last seconds of the year ticked away.

"My New Year’s resolution is to make better bad decisions."

Gunshots went off in the distance and Mary, Sam, and Dean's hands all twitched, firmly entrenched reactions unavoidable at this stage in their lives. 

"There's...no punch line," Castiel added, nodding and spreading his arms out as if in prearranged apology. A bit of beer spilled from his full bottle as he'd moved and his blanket fell forlornly to the ground.

Mary started laughing. She couldn't help herself. Better bad decisions, indeed. 

"Well, if anything should be our family motto," Sam chimed in before joining in Mary's laughter. 

Castiel cocked his head slightly, obviously uncertain as to whether he should be pleased by Mary and Sam's reaction or not. He looked toward Dean, who hadn't yet had any sort of response. But the look on Dean's face was gentle and indulgent.

Dean walked over to Castiel, placed a hand on his shoulder and clinked their bottles together. "Happy New Year, man."

Within seconds all of their bottles were practically crashing together rather than clinking, drowning out the sound of the still-firing gunshots that would likely ring in (and ring out) every Winchester year, but Dean had been right. They had beer, they had music, and they had each other. Maybe this time around their decisions would hold more better and less bad. 

**end**


End file.
